Review: Roma

Image courtesy of Netflix.

A small story told on a grand scale, Alfonso Cuaron's "Roma" is a gorgeous, autobiographical slice of life that dazzles with its breathtaking imagery and sneaks up on you emotionally. Much like "Boyhood," it takes a story that focuses on the quotidian and masterfully draws empathy from its audience through the story of a character - and those surrounding her - whose life is often dictated by forces out of her control as a result of history and the unpredictability of human nature.

Cleo (Yalitza Aparicio in a terrific debut performance) is a housekeeper for a wealthy family in Mexico City in the early 1970s, but she is much more than that - to the children, she's an indispensable member of the family, although her employers occasionally remind her that she is, in fact, also a servant. She spends her days tending to the children's needs, cleaning up the seemingly never-ending supply of poop courtesy of Borras, the family's excitable mutt, and trying to steer clear of the evident drama between matriarch Sra. Sofia (Marina de Tavira) and her husband, whose lack of presence is slowly explained during the course of the picture.

The early scenes in the film - the entirety of which is shot in gorgeous black and white - depict the lazy days of summer, and the picture is presented as a dreamy recollection of memory. It is clear that Cuaron himself is one of the four somewhat rascally kids whom Cleo fiercely protects. In a lovely scene during the film's opening moments, precocious Pepe (Marco Graf), possibly Cleo's favorite child in the family, is left dejected during a game with one of his older brothers. He lies down on the roof of the family's posh home and tells Cleo that he's not responding to her inquiries because he's "dead." She takes a break from her work and plays dead with him.

This is a film of stunning imagery, and it unspools in vignettes, much in the way that memories leave images imprinted on our psyches. One of the film's most masterful shots is of a movie theater in which a silly comedy plays in the background of a massive screen and a mini drama plays out in the foreground. Cleo tells Fermin (Jorge Antonio Guerrero), a cousin of a friend's boyfriend who is obsessed with martial arts, that she is pregnant with his child, and he - who is the closest thing to the film's villain - delivers his first of several horrid responses. Other shots that have become embedded in my memory from the film include a group of men undertaking martial arts training in a field, numerous shots of planes drifting in the sky in the background and a staircase with chickens on it that feels as if it was snatched out of a classic film noir.

Cleo is terrified to tell Sra. Sofia about the pregnancy, and while we've come to expect that her mistress - whom we later learn has been stern due to her own set of troubles - will respond harshly, it is a surprise to find that not only she, but the entire family for whom Cleo works, is supportive. Her pregnancy is pivotal to all that comes next. During a remarkable series of sequences, Cleo finds her water breaking while away from home as 1971's Corpus Christi Massacre of student demonstrators takes place in front of her eyes. She is rushed to a hospital, where she undergoes a grueling delivery and a moment of heartbreak occurs.

Upon returning home, Sra. Sofia plans a trip to the beach with the children and asks Cleo to come along, not as a servant, but for the purpose of a vacation. A final set piece at the beach involving an act of heroism from Cleo draws the family closer together, and we realize that its members - Cleo, Sra. Sofia and the children - all rely on one another. The combination of Cleo's birth and the finale at the beach result in one of the year's most emotionally satisfying and deeply moving denouements. The film even ends on a lovely final shot that seems to indicate that Cleo is a saint.

"Roma" is clearly a very personal film for Cuaron, who has noted that it is dedicated to the women who made an impact on his life. In this film, those women are three caretakers - Cleo, Sra. Sofia and Sra. Teresa (Veronica Garcia), the grandmother who accompanies Cleo to the hospital and comforts Sra. Sofia. The film's men are mostly absent husbands and irresponsible boyfriends.

This is one of the year's best films. "Roma" is visually astounding - and should be seen on the largest screen possible, despite Netflix now offering it for streaming - marvelously acted and thematically rich. It beautifully balances its creator's personal memories against the backdrop of an historic moment, all the while creating empathy for a character who many of us might never have the opportunity to get to know. It's a triumph and one of Cuaron's finest films to date.